When the massive chandelier fell, my husband ignored our daughter’s screams to protect his ex’s child. I shielded her with my own back. After the dust cleared, my daughter wiped my tears and whispered, “Mommy, let’s leave daddy behind.” When my husband finally turned to look at us…

playwright, I thought.

“No,” I whispered, slowly withdrawing my hand from the glass, leaning back into the warmth of the leather seat. “Keep driving.”

Right at that moment, as if sensing a shift in the universe, Dylan raised his head.

Through the heavy curtain of the downpour and the tinted glass of our idling car, his eyes found mine.

What kind of eyes continue reading …